Simmer Up
by Kirenza
Summary: "Okay, okay." It was a breathless laugh, shoulders quaking while a smile overcame his face and a sparkle of amusement gleamed in his eyes. "You win." College AU.


Thanks to suspiciouspopsicle for the idea! It originally came from this noun generator that gave me the words disappointment, spaghetti, and sword. What a combo. Yuri & Flynn being dorks in a college AU, maybe Fluri if you squint.

* * *

><p>The pot of water clattered as Yuri set it on the stove and turned on the heat. In the pantry, shaded and lit solely by the kitchen light, he shifted aside boxes and cans of soup until he unearthed a box of noodles. He moved about the room in search of spices and sauces and utensils and set them haphazardly at the counter. His method of organization was nearly opposite Flynn's—where the blond was precise, Yuri could care less about order, a trait that pitched them into arguments where the only resolution was to agree to disagree. In a way Yuri was glad Flynn couldn't cook. It granted him the freedom to arrange the kitchen any way he liked.<p>

Spaghetti was on the menu for tonight; Flynn's suggestion, but Yuri was glad for the chance to cook. Cold weather had been looming over the horizon as well, making the dish even more appealing. Yuri opened the box of pasta and paused. He felt the smirk pulling at his lips as he emptied a handful and glanced towards the living room where Flynn sat at the couch, studying or reading, or whatever. It was a habit he'd fallen into lately, losing himself in coursework and reading, and while Yuri admired that sense of dedication, it pulled Flynn away from him more than he would've liked.

It was time for intervention.

Yuri left the water to heat on the stove and strolled into the living room, dry pasta noodles in hand, and found blond hair peeking over the back of the couch. Evidently he was taking a break now; Flynn leaned back against the cushions with eyes closed, running a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet sigh. Yuri absorbed the scene for a moment before prodding at Flynn's shoulder with the pasta and making him jolt in surprise. The hand fell from his face and he glanced Yuri's way in confusion. He rose a brow at Yuri's grin, eyes roving down until he saw the noodles, trying to bat him away as Yuri continued to poke, but eventually he gave in with a laugh.

"Alright, give me some." Before Yuri could reply Flynn stood and had taken hold of the bundle to slip out some noodles for himself.

The two faced each other with their makeshift swords, unable to hold back laughter as they began batting at each other, careful not to be too aggressive and break the pasta in half. Yuri took up a fencing pose and lunged forward in quick successions. They were an even match, blocking and parrying with speed, making harmless jabs. All to late Yuri forgot about the fragility of the pasta, and as he and Flynn pushed against each other's bundle a snap sounded and spaghetti noodles scattered to the floor.

"Shit!" Yuri took a step back. His makeshift sword had split in two, as had Flynn's, rendering them nearly useless.

Flynn sighed. "Should've known that would happen. What a waste."

"It's fine. There's a whole box left." He and Flynn crouched to the floor and began gathering the broken pieces. "Why'd you go along if you knew they would break?"

"You wouldn't have stopped otherwise, would you?"

"Didn't have to be so aggressive."

"Yuri, we're both at fault here."

Yuri ignored him and kept searching the ground. He made his way over to Flynn, who paused as he approached, gave Yuri a grin—and tossed the few pieces of pasta he held at him. Yuri blocked the barrage with his free hand and steadied himself against the floor, cursing him all the while. A laugh was all the warning he got before Flynn advanced. The pasta pieces spilled out of Yuri's hand and he met Flynn in a grapple, confused where the sudden burst of energy had come from. He must've finally broken from all that studying. Try as he might Yuri couldn't quite match his strength and resisted with all his might as Flynn bore down on him, trying to push him to the ground, trying to eke out a win. An idea sprung forth then and Yuri released the tension in his muscles. The tables turned and now Flynn was the confused one as he fell on top of Yuri, and in the moment of surprise Yuri managed to roll off his back and pin Flynn to the ground, dark hair sliding over shoulders as he leaned down.

"Okay, okay." It was a breathless laugh, shoulders quaking while a smile overcame Flynn's face and a sparkle of amusement gleamed in his eyes. "You win."

"Damn right I do."

Flynn fell quiet and reached up to Yuri's hair. Softly he ran fingers through the strands and breath caught in Yuri's throat—not just from touch, but from the look in Flynn's eyes, the warmth and contentment. Flynn chuckled and held a broken piece of pasta before him.

"Got some stuck in your hair."

Yuri released the breath with a laugh and shook his head. Fingers continued to run through his hair as Flynn picked out what pieces he found, thankfully not many. With the last piece out he stilled and turned his focus on Yuri's eyes. Yuri swallowed a lump in his throat, felt a jolt tingle down his spine, but before he could think further on things the sound of bubbling water met his ears and he hurried to his feet. He brushed his shirt off before heading to the pot, just to be sure all the spaghetti was gone. At the stove he lowered the heat and slid the boxed, uncooked pasta into the roiling water, and fished out a wooden spoon from his pile of utensils. While he waited for it to cook he relaxed. Soon he heard footsteps and Flynn was by him again, fingers threading his hair. Yuri felt the back of his head and glanced over as Flynn held out another stray piece of pasta.

"Are you kidding me?" Yuri shook out his hair, but nothing caught on his fingers, nothing skittered to the floor.

"It's the last one, promise."

With his free hand Yuri teasingly fluffed his hair and, to his surprise, plucked pasta from the blond strands. "Oh. Guess you, uh, might want to check yours too."

Flynn sighed, but gave him a smile of gratitude nonetheless. "Yeah, thanks."


End file.
